


Love Letters

by zabjade



Series: Far to Go [9]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-12
Updated: 2018-10-12
Packaged: 2019-07-29 21:54:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16273112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zabjade/pseuds/zabjade
Summary: Over a hundred years ago, a man named William Pratt was murdered, his soul sent off to a sort of heavenly limbo to await the final death of his demon-possessed body. While there, he meets a young girl who changes his life. Part of the Far to Go series, taking place at the same time as all of Thursday's Child.





	Love Letters

It was a place that was not a place, set somewhere between the physical of the mortal world and the ephemeral unknown of what lay beyond. It was a waystation of sorts, where weary souls rested while others slowly filtered down into the world, filling their unborn vessels as they grew. It was also where the souls of vampires were contained, awaiting the final deaths of their demon-possessed bodies before moving on.

William had been there for over a hundred years, and while it had stopped as of late, he’d often found himself compelled to attend the arrival of some poor soul murdered by the creature that wore his seeming. When he felt a similar tug, he thought it had started up once more, that whatever had constrained the demon was no more. But instead of the peaceful garden where newcomers appeared, he found himself drawn to the park.

Children ran all about in various states from fully opaque to almost completely transparent, playing with family members who had already passed on. William had been called here once before, only months after his death when a cousin had fallen pregnant. It had been a grand time, playing with the young boy until he’d been born, and a bittersweet contrast to the children arriving, victims of his demon. It was good to be in the park again, though he was unsure why he’d been called.

One of the most solid of the little girls suddenly stopped picking flowers and ran towards him, smiling brightly. She was a lovely little thing with big blue eyes and brown curls, and William couldn’t help smiling back at her.

“Hello, there,” he said, dropping down to be on her level. “Have you gotten lost?”

He didn’t see how that was possible, as she was in the right place, but it didn’t make sense for her to come to him instead of her family. He frowned slightly as he looked at her. She felt oddly familiar, like that long ago little boy, but moreso. Who was this child?

“Nuh-uh. This is where I’m supposed to be. And these are for you.” She held out a small clutch of wildflowers.

William’s hand brushed hers as he took them, and suddenly, he knew. Somehow, someway, this darling little girl was his daughter.

...

Beyond the arrivals, William had done all he could to avoid knowledge of what the demon in his body was doing on Earth. There was nothing he could do about any of it, so why torture himself with the knowing? After meeting the little girl, however, curiosity had got the best of him. He retreated to his personal garden, sitting before a tranquil pond as he prepared to call up a vision of his child’s conception. It wouldn’t be pretty. He knew that much, but he had to see. He had to know what horror had befallen the girl’s poor mother.

It both was and wasn’t what he’d expected. He’d known there would be violence, but he hadn’t imagined the demon would be the victim of it. That some sort of vicious she-beast in human seeming would force him down and…. He watched the whole sordid thing and the beating that came after.

Who was that woman? What was she? He shook his head and started to stand up, intending to walk away. How had she the power to overwhelm his demon so easily? But then some force — the same that called him to arrivals and had called him to the park — answered his question, holding him gently in place as the water rippled and cleared. Then images formed once more, showing him the life of Buffy Anne Summers.

She was no evil she-beast, but a shining warrior. She’d her flaws like any other, but oh, how she strived! She fought against evil. She brought light to the darkness. She was… effulgent.

...

“My name is Thursday!” the girl announced happily.

William was sitting with her on a blanket in the park, having tea while they ate cucumber and watercress sandwiches. They didn’t need food, of course, and it wasn’t even real, but picnics in the country were a fond memory from his childhood. The girl, Thursday, seemed to enjoy them, too. Thursday… bit of an odd name, it was, but he liked it. It reminded him of the poem, Monday’s Child. Mother had always said his own day fit him well.

“Other Daddy says I have far to go.”

Unless things had changed drastically since last he’d looked, her “other daddy” was chained to Miss Summers’s bed, bored and starving. William wasn’t quite sure how to feel about the entire situation. In an odd twist, it had been his body that had fallen pregnant from the violent encounter. In a world with vampires and other demons and one girl meant to protect humanity from them, the notion didn’t seem quite as peculiar as it might have otherwise.

“I’m sure you do, my dear,” he assured her. “You’re the child of a Slayer, after all.”

She was a truly remarkable young woman, the Slayer, though what she going through at the moment wasn’t bringing out the best in her. He’d no doubt, however, that she would prevail against the ritual, her inner strength shining through. He’d seen it in her, when she’d defeated Lothos and then the Master. And again when she had broken things off with Angel. Her compassion had ultimately got the best of her there, driving her to take the souled vampire back, only for the cad to abandon her.

His thoughts on Miss Summers were interrupted by Thursday crawling over to lie down with her head in his lap. She gave a soft, happy little sigh, then let her eyes drift closed. Most souls required no sleep, but the unborn were different, needing rest as they slowly transferred to Earth. She was still fairly solid for now, but if the pregnancy continued to progress, she’d fade away, drawn down into the infant body. If it didn’t progress… well, she’d stay until she was ready to move on. As sad and distressing as the arrivals he was called to were, death wasn’t a tragedy here. It was merely moving from one place to another, much like birth itself.

William gently stroked Thursday’s hair as he gazed down at her, memorizing the sweet little face. What would be, would be, and he’d enjoy the time he had with her, no matter how long it lasted.

...

When he wasn’t spending time with Thursday, William watched over Buffy. He watched as she started to fall in love with the demon. He watched as the demon somehow, impossibly, did his best to fight on the side of good. He watched as they got to know each other, and as they did, he got to know the demon known as Spike and to see how he changed as more of Thursday’s soul filtered down into her body.

It was remarkable to behold, and William found himself… envious of the evil creature wearing his form. He fought evil while evil was inside of him, in part out of a love for sheer violence, but also for the sake of love itself. Even before Thursday began to affect him. He was living the kind of life William would have loved. Spike fought by the side of a hero, and had earned her love.

William watched and wanted and dreamed of having that life.

...

One moment, Thursday was there, a bare wisp of a soul, laughing and chasing after butterflies in the park. Then she was gone. She didn’t fade that last little bit, she just vanished. Gone, without a chance for William to say goodbye. He stared at where she’d been for a moment, unable to comprehend at first. If she’d been born at full term, she’d have faded away as she was meant to. If she had died, she would have become solid again. This was…. This….

She’d been born early. That was the only answer. As quick as the realization hit, William found himself in his garden, staring into the pond. An image immediately formed, showing him Thursday as she was on Earth, a tiny newborn rather than the young child he’d known her as. It should have been a joyous scene of a family together, but Buffy was nowhere in sight and Spike…. The vampire was in terrible shape. He’d been sliced open by the madwoman who had sired him and Thursday ripped out.

William fell to his knees at the edge of the pond, just barely holding himself back from reaching out to touch the surface of the water. It would do no good. As much as he wanted, there was no way for him to take her in his arms and hold her himself. He could only watch as Spike cuddled their child, doing his best for her despite his dire situation. He could only watch, horrified and on edge as Drusilla spoke of her plan to raise Thursday and turn her once she’d reached five years.

And then Buffy was there, an avenging angel come for her love and her child. It was a glory to behold, and once it was over, William felt as worn out as a soul could, almost as if he’d been fighting right alongside her. He willed the image in the pond away and retreated to rest against a nearby tree.

Only moments later, a warm, gentle breeze fluttered by. He knew what it was, of course. While they could no longer hold the appearance of a physical form, infants retained a connection to this place for a time, their souls able to brush against it as they slept. As she grew older, she would forget her time here. She would forget him, as well. She….

There was something suddenly in his hand. A piece of folded parchment that opened to reveal hearts and flowers drawn in colored wax. In the center were the scrawled words, “I love you, Daddy.”

...

The letters continued, usually appearing after a long session of watching over Thursday through the pond. She was loved and cherished, by the demon just as much as Buffy. And the demon… was considering what no demon should have been able to. But then, Spike, as William had learned, was no ordinary demon. He was quite a stubborn creature, determined to exist as he saw fit and constrained by neither good nor evil. It was something rather to be admired, honestly, and was part of the reason Spike was capable of the decision he had just come to. He wanted his soul back.

As the soul in question, William wasn’t sure how to feel. Afraid, sickened, curious… eager. Admirable qualities and obvious attempts at reform or no, Spike was still a being who had wallowed in death and destruction for over a century. If he succeeded, William would be torn away from this place, ripped out of the quiet peace just as Thursday had been stolen away from the magically created womb. He would be shoved into a body drenched in the blood of thousands of innocents, forced to endure the memories of what that body had done. But…. He would live that life, be a hero protecting other innocents, side-by-side with Buffy, the woman he had come to love just as much as the demon did. And he would be with Thursday again.

He took the letters from Thursday out of his pocket and spread them out on the grass, each one a declaration of unconditional love. A love she felt for both himself and the demon who wore his skin. If they were to become one…. He looked into the pond once more, and as Spike told Buffy of his decision, William made his own.

After roughly two weeks had passed in the mortal realm, he was pulled away from the place of peace. And as he went, feeling plucked out like an errant weed no matter how willing, there was terror. And there was joy.


End file.
